Dishonored: The Demon of Dunwall
by ASouffleToServeTwo
Summary: The untold story of a second assassin gifted by the outsider, as he finds his life changing before his eyes as his homeland of Dunwall rots under the iron fist of Hiram Burrows. Join him on his quest of revenge, retribution and ultimately, dishonour. Runs parallel with Corvo's story, with events in this story beginning before the events of Dishonored, and carrying on through them.
1. Wrenhaven Dusk (Prologue)

"Shit, not another one!" The hagfish hit the deck and flopped pathetically before going still. "I'm telling you Royce, its your face! They think your a female, and they're trying to hump you!". Royce gave me a look of equal-parts anger and amusement. "Or maybe they think your a worm and they're trying to eat you". I laughed at his poor counter-joke. "Well, nevertheless I think we should try sticking your head underwater and see if they all swarm for you". Royce picked up a handful of the bait and flung it at me. I laughed and recoiled as the worms bounced off my jacket. "Great!" I yelled. "Now how are we going to make a profit today?" Royce smiled wryly, and said "Maybe we can pawn your services to the Golden Cat. I bet Pendleton would gobble you right up". I smiled and cracked open a bottle of Dunwall Brewery Whiskey. "This is our last one, so lets go easy on it, huh?" I said. Royce just shook his head and replied "See about that. Once I get started, nothing stops me."

My name is Pleto Kraemer, and my friend is Clancy Royce. We're fishermen, and the worst in the trade. Until quite recently, profits had been stable enough, but now we found ourselves unable to reel in anything but fuck-ugly hagfish (who suffice to say, have little to no use whatsoever). But its never been the job that kept me going, its always been Royce. I started out hating him, really I did. The guy acts tough but he can be so pathetic sometimes. Being in his company always lifted my spirits (quite literally, when we got drinking), and nowadays company is all I've got, cuz I ain't got money. So its just me, and him, on the Wrenhaven River, every night, drinking and trading insults. If it weren't for Royce, I would never have gotten together with my wife, Marcephony. She was my childhood sweetheart, and I always loved her. But years went by and we had grown apart. Royce gave me the courage to find her again, and get into a relationship with her. Now we're married, and I owe it all to Royce. I'll never admit it, but the guy is very close to my heart.

"Have you heard the rumours about the Empress?" Royce asked, as he got comfortable on his back, glass of whiskey in hand. "People are sayin' that there's a plot to assassinate her, and that its all masterminded by that creepy Spymaster guy. Whats his name again?" I took a long swig of my whiskey and replied "Hiram Burrows. A name that screams 'I'm evil waiting to happen'". Royce nodded and carried on "Even worse, some people are saying that he's trying to destroy the lower class. With the rats. They're like his minions, spreading the plague and rotting the city at its core". I laughed at his crazy conspiracy. "Were these people by any chance sharing the same gutter as you one night?". Royce raised his eyebrows, but denied nothing. "All I'm saying is, that there's something at work that we don't yet understand. They say that communications have been cut between Gristol and Tyvia. Now if it weren't for the plague, I would say that that was mighty suspicious, wouldn't you? Dunwall has always relied on its supplies. In this time of plague, we need them more than ever, surely? Unless Burrows wants Dunwall to fall, the same way Serkonos has." I nodded and pretended I was on-board with this theory. Royce had a tendency to believe that there was more going on behind the scenes of government than anyone knew. His theories can't get any kind of belief, simply because the guy is a raving drunk. However, I certainly had my suspicions about what Hiram Burrows was doing, whether or not it involved Regicide.

"Now our only hope is Corvo Attano, you know, the Empress' bodyguard. He's been journeying around the Isles, looking for a cure to the rat plague. He's due to return tomorrow. Lets hope he found more than a crate of Sokolov's elixirs, huh?". Royce tried to stand up, and, having discovered he had no balance, sat down abruptly again. I turned to face him. I had something on my mind, and I needed to tell him. "Royce, I'm thinking of joining the City Watch". Royce spat out the mouthful of whiskey he'd been drinking, and turned to me. "The Watch? Those guys are prissy pricks! Not to mention the average life expectancy of a grunt, what with all the rats and the Bottle Street Gang. How can you say that? I though we had a good life here?". It was painful to see the hurt in his voice at the thought of losing his best friend. I sighed and replied "I might not work full-time. But face it Royce, this life may be esoteric, but its not realistic. We're not making a coin any-more, and I need to support my wife." Royce was saddened, but he looked more understanding now. "But the Watch. You hear shit about them that would make your hair stand on edge. How they're injected with drugs to ensure their loyalty. How they're branded for stopping to talk to a local. I don't wanna see my buddy get hurt. Can't you do nothin' else?". "Jobs aren't exactly in great supply right now. It's the Watch, or the Bottle Street Gang." Royce nodded again, solemn. "Actually Royce, I was kinda hoping you'd join me?" Royce looked startled, like a whale had appeared behind me and was edging towards the boat. "You want me to join the Watch too? Wear those stupid blue coats and have amphetamine injected through my veins. No thanks buddy!". I suddenly got angry "You don't know that that's what happens. Royce. You only BELIEVE. I hear that the Watch is led by a very kind man, Admiral Havelock. They can't all be bad, Royce!" I stood up and walked to the prow of the boat. I stared into the foggy lights of Dunwall in the distance, and that the looming tower that stood atop the city. I took one last slog of the whiskey then through the bottle out to sea, where I heard it break. Royce came and stood next to me. "You know, they say that the River Krusts are in season again now. If we can harvest just one pearl, we're made for life. How's about it, me and you?" I turned to Royce. "Thats a brilliant idea, you fucking moron! One shot of venom from the Krust and we're both dead!" Royce chuckled silently but then looked dead serious. He looked out to sea, and said "Better dead than a prick".

I don't remember much of the rest of the night. We moored the boat in the Distillery District, and Royce headed off into the foggy night. He was bugged down, that's for sure. Never seen him look so glum. I turned toward home with a lump in my throat. As I walked down my street, I saw a man throwing his guts up in the street. He turned to me, and tried to ask for help but his words were gurgled by another round of sick that escaped from his mouth and sprayed across the road. I ran to my house, and hurriedly unlocked the door. The man didn't follow, just stood there, staring at me, before falling to his knees and coughing. I walked into the living room to find Marcephony asleep in the armchair, lit by the fire, with a book in her hand. I smiled and stroked her blond hair out of her eyes. I kissed her forehead, and carefully plucked the book from her hands. The cover read "The Leviathan's Sorrow". I put the book down on the table, and went to blow out the fireplace. I crept up the stairs and went into the bedroom. I opened the blinds and looked out to the street. The man was still there, and was getting much worse. His sick was turning a blood-red crimson. I knew we didn't have long. I reached under my pillow, and found to my relief, my uncle's calibre pistol. I silently went back down the stairs, and opened the front door. The man didn't hear me, and continued to cough and spew. I quietly loaded the pistol with three rounds, and held it towards him. At the last minute before I fired, the man lurched round, and snarled at me. His eyes were bloodshot and his features distorted. He wasn't a Weeper, but he didn't have enough humanity left in him to survive the night. He began to stumble towards me, arms outstretched. I held my aim steady, and fired. The bullet hit him in the temple, and he went down. I lowered my pistol and watched as he gargled for a few seconds, before becoming still. I apologised under my breath. The man had been Broyles, a local butcher who had been kind to me and my wife. Anyone else didn't deserve the bullet. I gave him the only thing I could, a mercy killing. I walked back into my house, and locked the door. My head hit my pillow, and sleep drifted in.

_I opened my eyes, and stood up. I was not where I had fallen asleep. I was standing on some kind of wooden platform, but there were no walls, and silence hung in the air. I heard about this place, the Void. Blue mist surrounded the entire area, and a whale drifted by, as if floating on the wind. The Void was the place men visited din their dreams, supposedly. This was my first time, and as I stood, observing my surroundings, a voice sounded behind me. "__**Hello**__**Pleto**__." I turned, shocked. Before me stood a man coated in a blue aura, eyes black as night, arms crossed. His skin was so pale, it looked like he was hardly alive. Maybe he wasn't. He was the Outsider. "__**You have heard of me, I presume**__" he said, in a voice so unfittingly dulcet I almost laughed out loud. I spoke, barely registering my voice as my own "Yes. You are the Outsider. You haunt men's dreams with promises of fortune, vengeance, enrichment. I need none of those things to be happy. Why do you seek me?". The Outsider barely blinked "__**The days ahead will be trying, for everyone. I just want you to know, that I will be watching you. You are my champion.**__" I stared back. "Yeah, everyone said you made this much sense. Should I get a pad and pen and write this down. I don't see any here." I waved my arms around as if searching the barren landscape to make my point. Without warning the air became so much colder. All around me, I saw pictures of things, horrific things, reflected in strange broken shards of glass. I saw rats, more than I've ever seen in my life. There was fire, a woman crying, holding her baby. And looming over her, a huge metallic monstrosity, legs like a spider, and a mask of pure hate covering their eyes. A metallic mask of peculiar design flashed before me, followed by a glimpse of a sword stuck through the heart of a man I did not recognise, and then one I did. Hiram Burrows, the very picture of contempt, standing tall on the balconies of Dunwall Tower, sneering at the lower class at the bottom of the hill, struggling and clambering to reach the safe area, never getting any closer, as the rats fed on their toes. Finally, a rooftop that I did not recognise. Two men stood facing each other. One of them wore the terrifying metal mask I had seen earlier, and brandished a long sword. But I could not see who it was. The other man, had his back to me. He held a curved dagger in each hand, and had a bow and quiver on his back. As I watched, the two men ran at each other, and then the vision faded as the shards of glass around me exploded in bright light. I fell to my knees. Only now did I realise I was crying. I strained to see the Outsider, standing tall above me, watching me sob with a cold and calculating stare. "What was that!" I yelled through my tears, "What were those horrific images?" His answer, I feared I already knew, and with a trace of a smile, the Outsider replied "__**The future**__" Then the Void was disappearing around me. As the light intensified, I looked one last time at the Outsider. His face, now surrounded by a red aura, was fixed in a beaming smile. He stared long and hard at me, and then he too was gone, as the light consumed my vision and I woke to the real world._


	2. Cold Blood

I awoke from a restless sleep to the sound of frantic knocking on my front door. Royce. I look over at the ivory clock on my bedside table. Seven O'clock. He's gonna pay for this.

I sleepily tread down the stairs and, after checking on Marcephony (who was still deep asleep), I opened the door.

Sure enough, there stood Royce, looking out of breath.

"Morning, Pleto." he said, in a casual tone.

"Yeah, morning. Seven in the. What is it?" I replied snappily, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"I thought you'd want to see the Lord Protector return. He probably has a cure, for the rat plague! This could be the start of a new golden age!" Royce said, ignoring the bitter sound of my voice.

"Honestly Royce, I'd rather be in bed. But whatever, I won't go off again now."

I stepped out of the front door, and Royce and I walked down the steps and onto the street.

As we walked briskly towards the main roads Royce noticed the dead Weeper on the roadside, now complete with a swarm of flies buzzing over the exposed brain through the bullet hole in his forehead.

He turned to me. "Did you-" he began slowly.

"Yes", I said quickly. I was in no mood to talk about my mercy-killing to Royce. I didn't even want to think about it.

But he wouldn't let it go.

"You killed him with a bullet, then? You must have known him, to be that willing to part with a bullet in these times" Royce continued, ever the inquisitor.

I sighed deeply. "Yes, I knew him. He was a butcher who lived nearby. He was a good man. Despite the recession, he would always give me and my wife an extra chop of venison. Giving him the chance to die before he succumbed to the plague fully was the only kind thing I could ever do in return."

"Don't beat yourself up", Royce commented upon hearing my tormented reply. "Not many would have helped him in the way that you did. I'm sure he would thank you."

I kicked a nearby rock hard, and watched as it span down the street.

"I don't know about that, Royce" I said in a small voice. "But thanks."

As we walked into town the first rays of sunlight descended upon the ground, revealing piles of bodies lying all over the roads, and the odd rat, which scampered into the shadow.

We noticed more people were coming out of their houses. _"It must give them hope" _I thought to myself. _ "They think Corvo really might have good news. It's all they've got."_

We followed the assembling crowd to the river banks, where a boat could be seen further out on the water. The boat was heading into Dunwall Tower. A man gave a cheer, that was followed by a mass reciprocation. Soon everyone was just cheering, drowning out the sorrows of their lives with new-found hope and joy.

"Dunwall Rises!" Royce cried out. His words were then copied by over a hundred people, all chanting "Rise!"

I watched as the boat docked in the tower, and the flood water carried it up and out of sight through the layers of the imposing castle. All around me the chanting continued, getting louder and louder.

I turned to Royce who gave me a big smile.

"This is it, Pleto", he said excitedly. "This is the day Dunwall crushes the rat plague. This is the day everything changes!"

His words were met with a further uproar from the crowd. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and I found a smile creeping onto my face. _"Maybe this really is the end of all the suffering. things can go back to normal."_

It was then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man standing on top of the roof of the building we all stood in front of. No'one else was seeing him. The sun's intense glare blotted out most of his features, but I could see he wore a black robe of sorts and a strange mask, not unlike the one from my dream.

I strained my eyes for a better look. But just like that, he had gone before my eyes. Like he had vanished into thin air.

I looked round and saw him again, perched on the top of a sail on one of the moored navy destroyers in the harbour. I nudged Royce, and, just as he followed my gaze the man was gone again.

"What?" Royce asked, confused.

I looked round, but the man was nowhere to be seen.

"I thought I saw..." I began. But I didn't have the right words to finish my sentence.

Royce gave me a quizzical stare for a further few seconds, before turning away and continued his chanting.

I tried to shake the feeling that the man had filled me with. The colour black has always filled me with dread, and fear.

I tried to tell myself that I was imagining things. But I couldn't. A paranoid silence filled my thoughts.

I just stared out to sea. The sun glistening off the water made Dunwall seem beautiful again, like it had been before the rats, and the deaths. A cold wind blew, and a shiver ran down my spine. In this moment, I remembered the dark eyes of the Outsider, their intense emptiness burning in my soul.

For a couple of minutes, absolutely nothing happened. The cheerful chanting doing nothing to expel the darkness that binded my thoughts like a roll of string.

Then, it happened.

A sharp screeching silenced the crowd, and everyone looking to the cause. The klaxon that stood perched upon the lamppost next to us was coming to life. As the static cleared, a brooding and cold voice echoed from its mouth.

A voice we all recognized.

"Citizens of Dunwall." it began, waiting for people all over the city to stop what they were doing and listen.

"It is my most sincere duty to inform you all, that the Empress... is dead".

And all of a sudden the wind blew colder. The happiness that had hung in the air seconds before was now just a distant memory.

I looked at Royce. He was just frozen to the spot.

"Murdered!" the klaxon continued, stressing the word out to express its undoubted importance. "By her own bodyguard, none the less."

Next to me I heard Royce whisper "No..."

"He has killed our beloved empress, in cold blood. I was not vigilant enough to stop this mad murderer. For this, I cannot express my apology more. The thought sickens me that I was too slow to stop him. I have her blood on my hands just as much as Attano."

I couldn't feel my legs any more. I doubt any of us could. We all just stood there, rooted to the spot, listening in horror and shock as the voice told us the fate of the city we had believed only mere minutes before was within saving.

"And her daughter, Emily Kaldwin abducted, by Corvo's associates!" spoke the deep, monotonous voice.

"But fear not. We will not rest, until Kaldwin is found! Alive... and WELL! And as for Corvo Attano, he is under our arrest. He will rot in Coldridge prison. And once the trial takes place - which I can assure you, citizens, will not last long - this murderer will hang!"

Someone in the crowd found their voice. "Corvo wouldn't do that, he was her bodyguard for four years!"

And I had to admit, every fibre in my body was telling me that what we hearing was wrong.

But yet the voice continued, "But until Emily is returned to the throne of her late mother, we must continue the work of our Empress. Dunwall will not fall. And so the duty falls to me, to try and fill the shoes I could never fill. To rule - temporarily - as the Lord Regent."

Suddenly the silence was broken by a huge wall of sound. All around me, the crowd was screaming. And crying. Shouts of "No, this can't be happening!" rang throughout the assembly. Royce was looking smaller than I had ever seen him. He looked as if he wanted to run away, and hide. I couldn't blame him.

I felt the same way.

The voice rang out again. The voice of our new leader. The voice of Hiram Burrows.

"As sorry as I am that this day has come, to give up would fuel Corvo's satisfaction. He will not be responsible for the fall of Dunwall. Not while my heart still beats."

His words did nothing to calm the hysteria that was spreading quickly, rather like the rat plague in its way.

"And so, in order to keep the order"; Burrows spoke, in a voice which no longer ran full of sympathy, but of cunning; "I propose from this day forth, a curfew, from 9pm, until 9am the next morning. I also wish to report an alliances with the Overseers. They are trustworthy, and they will help us crush the menace which runs through this city at street-level, and get us back our Empress!"

The mention of the Overseers seemed to snap Royce out of his trance.

"How can anyone with the best interests of Dunwall at heart speak those words?" he protested. "The Overseers are insane maniacs who dabble in dark arts to try and destroy the dark arts! They are hypocrites of the highest order, not to mention they are completely ruthless, and violent."

Royce looked on with horror. He had his reasons for hating the overseers. It was more than just their personalities.

They'd killed his parents.

"Our Empress was already considering the possibility of this alliance before Corvo tore her from us, and I will honour her by forging a new path with them at our side."

"Bullshit!" Royce screamed. Tears flickered in his brown eyes. "Jessamine would never have considered an alliance with those monsters! He's a liar!"

The crowd's noise level picked up. They obviously agreed with Royce.

"That is all, my citizens. Dunwall may be weakened by this heretic's blows, but it will not fall to them. Hiram out."

The klaxon crackled with static, and fell silent.

The crowd, however, was anything but. Mass hysteria broke out. People were sobbing, and screaming, and someone landed a punch. The punch was returned, and within seconds it was all-out rioting. Royce just stood there, shaking with rage, a tear rolling down his cheek.

I grabbed his arm instinctively, and led him quickly away from the crowds. As we got out of reach of the crowd, Royce looked at me for the first time in ages.

"Pleto..." he started. "It's over".

He wasn't wrong. The city was falling to shit. For not the first time that morning, I wished I never gotten out of bed.


	3. Four Weeks Later

Author's Notes: Yeah, I updated! It's been a while, I admit, and I'd had no long-term plan to update this story. But sometimes you just feel inspired, and pick up your keyboard and start writing. This isn't a long chapter, I admit, and the next won't be for some time I expect. But it just feels good to know that I haven't abandoned this story. It will still be told, if it takes me a thousand years. Enjoy! Review, or flame, or whatever you please.

(-)

I found him sitting on the backstep, his head in his hands. The very picture of misery.

He's been staying with us ever since that day. The day where everything changed.

He was smoking his ebony pipe, and when I approached him he turned his head to acknowledge me.

"Pleto."

I offered him a weak smile. Giving him a scrap of hope is the least I can do for the person who has been my best and only friend for so long.

I don't know that I even believe in what I am about to say. But it makes me feel better by saying it.

I sit on the step next to him, and we avoid eye contact for a few moments, staring out into the dirtied streets.

There has clearly been a riot, as almost every bin on the street is on fire, the flames licking the stricken air.

It's hardly surprising that crime has been on the rise in these last few weeks. Jessamine kept these people in line, gave them belief for a better world. With her gone, they have nothing to cling to but each other.

And the bottle.

I look over to the curb where a huge black rat is picking the bones of a bird clean. The sight reminds me of exactly how I am feeling right now. Like an empty shell.

Gathering my thoughts at last, I look over at Royce, who is staring gravely at a graffiti-splattered wall.

"Look Royce," I begin, trying to sound as understanding as I can.

He cuts me off right there. "You don't have to say anything. You can't help me. No'one can."

I sigh and lay a hand on his shoulder in what I hope is a reassuring gesture. "I'm sure that some of Marcephony's cooking would change your mind. She's said she'll make you a meatloaf. Use up the last of the meat reserves. Would you like that?"

I'm aware that I'm talking to Royce like a father to his son, but Royce can be really childlike when he's in a slump.

He just keeps staring. My words are having no effect on him.

I try again after a few moments. "Look, Royce. This isn't helping anything. Moping about like this. This isn't you. Let me help you. Talk to me, we can talk through this."

He gives me a brief glance, before returning his gaze to the street. "It's over, Pleto. It's all over."

"No it isn't."

"It is," he retorted, removing the pipe from his lips and emptying it's contents onto the grimy ground below. "There was a chance that we could escape this plague. But now. Fuck, I think I might even have it."

I turn to him quickly as his words sink in. "Are you sure?" I ask, horrified.

He nods slowly. "I wake up every morning with a migraine. It's like a fire behind my eyes. It's the start, I'm sure of it."

No wonder he seems so solemn. I thought it was just to do with his parents, which would have been understandable, but somewhat demeaning. They had died so long ago. He barely mentioned their deaths any more. But no, this...

This put everything in a completely new perspective.

Suddenly I'm overcome with emotions. Negative ones, mostly. Anxiety. Fear. Grief. Even a confusing sense of guilt, like it was my fault.

I hold back tears with great difficulty. "Why didn't you say anything? We could have gotten you some help!"

"There's no way you could have helped. It's incurable."

"I could have _tried!_" I shout.

I'm getting really angry now. Not at Royce, but at myself, really. I should have figured it out sooner!

"I didn't want you to worry, okay?" he continues, giving me his full attention at last. "I knew you'd get like this. Please. Just don't get worked up, alright? I might not have it. I just think I do."

The stubborn shit! I bet he wouldn't have even told me on his deathbed. His priorities are messed up.

"And you would've just sat out here all day long?" I yell, clenching my fists in rage.

He shrugs, and stands up creakily.

"It's given me a chance to think, Pleto," he assures me. "About what you said. About joining the Watch. If I'm going to die, and let's face it, I probably am, then I don't want to have let you down. So if you want to go for it, then I'm in as well."

My mouth opens, my mind dumbfounded by what he was now saying.

"Royce, you don't owe me anything!" I say, watching him as he steps down onto the street.

He looks about him, then back at me where I'm still sitting on the steps. "No. But you're my friend. My best friend. If you're going to throw yourself in with a bunch of bloodthirsty, cock-sucking snobs, then I have a loyalty to go down with you."

I smile involuntarily. Royce's jokes about the City Watch always make me laugh.

"If you're sure..." I ask.

He gives me a grin, showing his full set of blackened teeth. It's the happiest I've seen him since Corvo's assassination of the Empress. Four weeks ago.

"I am," he confirms. "You only live once after all, and I don't want hagfish hauler to be the title on my gravestone."

I laugh. It doesn't feel right in a way, following such a morbid conversation. But I can't help it really. At heart I'm just an immature, drunken fishermen. Seeing a bright side of a dark existence has always been my speciality.

He starts to laugh too. It looks good. It feels good. It's been terrible being around him in such a bad mood.

"Well then!" he exclaims. "When do we start?"


End file.
